


(the scars that mark my body) silver and gold

by theredvipers



Series: ribs [1]
Category: Papillon (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M, or that AU where Papi and Dega are jaeger pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 18:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredvipers/pseuds/theredvipers
Summary: “Tell me, Papi,” Celier said. “How would you rather die? Here, trapped like an animal, just waiting for that terrifying moment when the Kaiju tear down all of our defenses, or inside a Jaeger?”Papi almost stood from his chair. He opted for straightening his posture. “The program got shot down. It’s been years, Marshal,” he said pointedly. Both he and Celier knew that the rank meant nothing now. “Let it go. We’re all trying to. Make your peace with it.”





	(the scars that mark my body) silver and gold

**Author's Note:**

> this is more word-vomit than a well thought-out fic, so. sorry.
> 
> truly had no idea what to name their jaeger. eden monarch sounded nice, and i wanted something inspired by papi's tattoo.  
> the pacific rim world only has something like nine known shatterdomes, with no known shatterdome in france. i thought it made sense to have something positioned closer to some of the most important ports in europe and also closer to the north atlantic ocean, so that's why i decided to place their old shatterdome in marseille. canonically, there are two shatterdomes in japan, so i think it's logical to assume there are more shatterdomes in europe besides the russian one. can't imagine the kaiju limit their appearances to just some parts of the known seas. 
> 
> i suck at writing action which is why i did not want to expand more on the actual battle. gotta practice that. all in all i'm pretty satisfied with how this turned out? kinda?
> 
> don't have a beta so any mistakes are mine. please kindly excuse them. i did try to edit here and there but still.

He had not expected to have any visits. Nenette and him had broken up years ago, and his parents had died in the first kaiju attack, so he had gotten used to the solitude of his cell. It was fine, to have a bit of peace and quiet after the war—because what had happened after the first kaiju attacks had been an all-out war.

The attention and devotion to the pilots behind the Jaegers had been nice at first, but hard to handle once they had started losing more often than they won. Many pilots had ended up like Papi, once the program had been cancelled to build the wall instead. With no seemingly bigger purpose, they had all turned to whatever could bring them comfort, as kaiju tore apart city after city. Many also did what they needed to do for survival, and for Papillon, stealing had been it.

Nenette had been understanding, at first, and the bond that survival had created between them had been enough, until Papi started messing with the wrong people, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Nenette had cautioned him about it one too many times until she’d had enough, and Papillon didn’t blame her.

“Cozy in here,” said a voice that Papillon recognized too well. Marshal Celier had been in charge of the Marseille Shatterdome, and Papi’s direct superior, before the Jaeger program had been shut down to focus all efforts on the wall. He was in full military regalia, still proudly wearing the insignia of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps.

Before Papi could think of a reply, Marshal Celier spoke again. “You enjoying your stay here, boy?”

Before, that condescending tone of his had always bothered Papi. Celier was a veteran, and one of the best Rangers, but Papi had also been the best. Celier himself had said that, if Papi were to find a perfect partner–his compatibility with Nenette was good, but not perfect, and everyone knew the best pilots had near perfect compatibility.

Papi shrugged. “Good days. Bad days.”

Celier hummed noncommittally, his eyes on Papi, and then on the room. He was getting on Papi’s nerves and they had barely started. “You’re wasting yourself here, Charrière. You were one of the best. What happened to you?”

War. It had happened to all of them. The kaiju were merciless, and the human weapons not enough. Papillon had tried. Nenette had tried. He’d seen his comrades go down, good soldiers, but good people as well. All for a war that the governments of the world had decided was not worth trying to win anymore. All their sacrifice thrown aside, the lives of good people tossed aside like nothing. Papi had realized, and then he had realized it was now everyone for themselves. That had drawn him to crime. If he wouldn’t have a long life, then he could try to make the best of whatever time he had left.

He didn’t answer, and shrugged again. Celier sighed.

“If you’re here,” Papi started, “You’re not here to ask how I’ve been doing.”

Celier had never been a fan of honest confrontation, but now, he sighed again, and Papi could see that the years had also weighed down on him. A man with purpose, but no war. Just like Papi.

“Tell me, Papi,” Celier said. “How would you rather die? Here, trapped like an animal, just waiting for that terrifying moment when the Kaiju tear down all of our defenses, or inside a Jaeger?”

Papi almost stood from his chair. He opted for straightening his posture. “The program got shot down. It’s been years, _Marshal_ ,” he said pointedly. Both he and Celier knew that the rank meant nothing now. “Let it go. We’re all trying to. Make your peace with it.”

Celier did not bite. “The government closed their program, yes. But there’s a resistance. And we could use men like you.” He said. “You still have it in you, Papillon.”

Papi chuckled. “One last stand?” He chuckled again. “Good luck, Marshal.”

He was expecting for Celier to take it as the dismissal it was, get up and leave. But Celier remained seated, looking as serious as he had been when he’d walked in. “Eden Monarch is ready for battle. One of my finest engineers has restored her. Looks like new,” now, Celier stood up. “We’ll have to find another pilot to see if she still fights the way she did, it seems.”

Papi had practically perked up at the mention of his old Jaeger. It had sustained great hits during his last battle. He had never been one for sentimentality, especially when it came to objects, but inside the Eden Monarch–he’d felt faster, stronger. Like he’d been doing something for himself. For the world. Anything seemed possible when inside a Jaeger, and on the battlefield.

He left with Celier.

*

The main base of operations of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps was now limited to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, but to Papi, the outside of it looked the same as the Marseille Shatterdome.

Celier seemed to know what he was thinking, and shouted over the sound of the helicopter landing, “Wait until you see the rest!”

It didn’t sound good, but, Papi reminded himself, this was more of a resistance now.

“Ah, there he is,” Celier said, as they got out of the helicopter. He nodded in the direction of a young man, shorter than Papi, holding an umbrella to shield himself against the pouring rain. “The engineer that re-built your Jaeger.”

Once they were close enough, the man greeted Celier, “Marshal,” he said. Then turned to Papi, and nodded. “Ranger Charrière, I assume.”

“Papi, this is Louis Dega. One of the brightest in the Shatterdome. He oversaw the Mark III Restoration Project. He is the man you can thank for Eden Monarch.”

Papi now did look at Dega. He was handsome, he noted. Big green eyes hidden behind glasses, but they had a glimmer to them that spoke of a fighting spirit and intelligence. He could see that, although Dega had never been a pilot–he didn’t have the demeanor most pilots did, far too bright for him to have yet been on the battlefield–he had a personal history with the war. They all did. “I hope you treated her well.”

Dega allowed himself a little smile. “My pride and joy.” he then turned to Celier, and switched to English. “I imagined him more…” he tilted his head.

Cheeky. A bit too smart for his own good. Papi liked that, but it also annoyed him. “Different?” Papi said in English, smiling. Dega looked at him, shocked. He had clearly never been around pilots, for most of them spoke multiple languages. It came with the job. You never knew when you would need to act as backup for other Rangers, so it was vital that they had a way to communicate. Most Rangers Papi had met spoke at least one other language, besides their mother tongue.

Dega smiled. “You are one the best, Ranger Charrière. It’s just…” Dega shrugged. “Things have changed.”

“For the worse, I suppose,” Papi said. Now they walked towards the Shatterdome, and from what little he could see, it was a far cry from the days of glory of the Jaeger program.

“The government gave us funding for eight months, and nothing more,” Celier explained. “We’re trying to figure out how to win this war with what we have.”

“Maybe there’s no winning it,” offered Papi.

“We can try,” Dega said sharply, but he didn’t look upset. “Four Jaegers are ready for battle now.”

“Dega,” warned Celier, “We’ll discuss this later. Now, if you’d be so kind as to show Papillon to his Jaeger.”

To Papi’s surprise, Dega nodded, but his jaw was set tight. He started walking in another direction, and didn’t wait for Papi to catch up. On their way over, he could see the other Jaegers Dega had been talking about. He recognized them all; _Striker Eureka, Crimson Typhoon,_ and _Cherno Alpha._ All Jaegers of legend, much like their pilots. Papi had only ever met the Kaidanovskys though, once, when they’d run defense for Eden Monarch. He had not really kept up with other pilots, but he knew that all of them had kept their respective posts unbreached until the official end of their watch.

Dega caught him staring at the Jaegers, and said, “These are the only ones we could rescue before they were definitely retired. Some are older models, but still the best there is.”

“I know,” Papi said, sharper than he intended to. Dega didn’t seem to mind, or notice, and before he realized, they were in bay three, where _Eden Monarch_ stood before his very own eyes.

“There she is,” Papi said, and couldn’t help himself from breaking out into a smile. From the corner of his eye, he could see Dega smiling before he regained his composure.

“Took us a while, but she’s back. Just needs the right pilots.” Dega said, and handed him a sheet with all the specifications, and annotations about what repairs had been done to her. Papi skimmed it over, and then went back to looking at her.  _Eden_ looked brand new, the way she had when Papi and Nenette had first been assigned to it. It brought back memories, of when he’d been a bright-eyed pilot thinking he’d change the world by winning the war.

He’d been a fool back then, too. Anyone could see this was a very desperate last stand, and they clung to that hope like a lifeboat, maddened by the possibility they wouldn’t win. Papi was like a madman, too, coming back here. He didn’t even know who would pilot Eden with him now. The connection between him and Nenette would not be the same ever again, and before she had become Eden’s pilot, she had piloted Striker with a man named Julot. Maybe she would pilot Striker now, and prefer to do so, too. She and Julot had remained friends, and though he had no doubt she would still tolerate him, it just wasn’t the same anymore.

“Trials for your co-pilot begin tomorrow.” Dega said, then turned around to leave.

“Thank you,” Papi said, before Dega could leave. He’d never been good at any of this, but he meant it. Dega had given him a piece of his sense of purpose back, a debt not easily repaid. “Looks brand new.”

Dega didn’t reply.

*

“I can tell you have your reservations about Eden,” Celier said, entering the bay. Papi had left to go look for his quarters and rest before the co-pilot trials. Eden was like brand new, Louis knew, after all, he had spent months working on her, but she still needed some repairs if she was to be a hundred percent ready, and so, here he was.

Louis jumped down from the raised platform where he’d been working on a damaged circuit near Eden’s would-be heel, and took off his safety glasses, to then put on his real glasses. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he did. Louis himself was not perfect. No one in the Pan Pacific Defense Corps was, he guessed. The best rangers had their personal vendettas against the Kaiju, or the world at large. The world that had let their loved ones die before stepping up. No one was turned away in the PPDC, especially if they had a drift compatible partner. They needed all the people they could get.

And yet, he had his reservations about Charrière. He had been good. The best. Then, somewhere, he seemed to have lost his path. Louis could understand it; he’d had a purpose, then none. That did things to people. He’d ended up in jail for attempting to rob a bank, and only Celier’s influences had gotten him out, a shadow of the man he had once been. Louis remembered him, giving interviews to news stations after battles, smiling like a movie star, handsome as ever. He had been everything Louis had ever wanted to be, and part of the reason why he had decided to enter the PPDC’s Academy. A man like Charrièrre had been the perfect PPDC poster boy, capable of inspiring hope when he won battle after battle inside the Eden.

Now, he wasn’t sure he could trust the man with his life. Not even with Eden. Louis was proud of what he had made of Eden, and he _was_ hesitant of handing her over to a man who seemed to have lost all hope. He didn’t even _know_ why Charrière had come back, if he thought their cause was a lost one.

“The war happened to him, like it did to all of us,” Celier said. “Not everyone lives on hope, Dega.”

That stung a bit, even if Celier hadn’t meant harm. Louis was tired of everyone acting like he was just some starstruck intern that didn’t understand the gravity of their situation. “I worked on Eden day and night, so she could fight. So we’d be able to stand against the Kaiju.” Louis said. “And I think that only the best of the best should be able to pilot her.”

That was why he had hand-picked the candidates for the co-pilot trials. He knew how Charrière worked as a pilot, and he knew what Eden could do, so he had tried to look for a co-pilot that would complement both.

“He’s the best,” Celier said. “He just needs time.”

“We don’t really have time.”

And they didn’t. The War Clock calculated that, at some point, there’d be a Kaiju attack every hour. Then every ten minutes, until they couldn’t hold their own against the Kaiju anymore. And that would be the end.

So maybe he did cling onto hope a bit foolishly, but for many, hope was all they had left. Even in the darkest of times, when the Kaiju had started tearing into Jaegers like toys, Louis had promised himself he wouldn’t lose hope until his dying breath, be it in the peace of his home, or inside the Shatterdome, and once Celier had called, he had made his decision.

“No, we don’t,” Celier said solemnly. “But give him a chance and I don’t think you should be disappointed.”

Louis could try. “Doesn’t mean I have to like him.” Charrière had also looked at him like he was but a boy who didn’t know where he was, and Louis had not appreciated that. His mesmerized look as he took in Eden, brand new, had been a small, sweet personal victory, even if Charrière had only said _Thanks_ , obviously trying to hide his amazement.

Celier chuckled. “No, you don’t.”

-

“This is pointless,” Papi said, after he’d already gone through twenty of the co-pilot candidates. None of them could hold their own against him for long, and he had not really felt any kind of connection so far. To pilot, you needed drift compatibility, but also trust, and none of the candidates had inspired any such thing in him, except maybe boredom. They were all predictable, so Papi was not so much fighting as he was just hitting them.

Dega frowned, and spoke before Celier could, “It is _not_ ,” he sounded a bit irritated. Big of him. It was easy to stand there and observe, when he wouldn’t be the one trusting his life and deepest secrets into the hands of a stranger. “You’re not _trying_. Give them a chance. They are all as good as you are.”

Papi couldn’t help himself, and said, “Maybe _you_ should’ve tried harder when picking them out.”

“The problem does not lie with me,” Dega replied. He was no longer frowning, but sighed. “You’re taking too long to take them out in an efficient manner. A pilot of your caliber should be winning these in two, three moves. If they’re not compatible, it should be an easy win.”

Now, Papi could feel himself growing angry. Dega had never seen the battlefield, and yet he stood there, smug and confident that he was better than Papi when he had not done half of what Papi had, when he had not gone through half of what Papi had. He’d seen his fellow pilots get shot down by Kaiju, seen them lost all hope and let themselves go when the program had been over. Dega had no right to question his ability, or to tell him how to do things.

He spoke before he could think it through, “Get here. Let’s go, you and me. It’ll be over in three moves.”

Dega was still not showing any emotion. He simply looked at Celier, as if for approval. “Go get him.” Celier said, patting Dega’s shoulder.

That was all Dega needed, it seemed. He stood closer to Papi, and began removing his jacket, neatly folding it before he left it to the side, along with his shoes. His glasses he handed to Celier.

Suddenly, it downed on Papi that he was being incredibly petty, and he felt like he couldn’t fight against someone when he had an advantage. He didn’t even know how well Dega could see without his glasses, if he could see at all. He didn’t want to seriously hurt him.

“Let’s do five, so it’s more fair for you.” Dega said.

All thoughts of mercy went out of his head, and he assumed position, the wooden stick used to spar on his left side. Dega’s was on his right.

“You’re on.” Papi said, and charged.

Wherever he hit, Dega met him. Blocked his hits like it was nothing. Dega wasn’t exactly scrawny, and while Papi was not much taller than him, there was no denying there was a difference in their builts. Dega was toned, but not muscled like Papi, and his skin was unscarred, but he fought like they were fighting for real, like he was a veteran like Papi.

And then it happened. Dega took advantage of how defenseless he’d left his legs, and swept his stick with enough force into them, knocking Papi off his feet. Four to four. Evenly matched in every sense.

It had gone from being petty to being _fun._ “Told you I wasn’t the problem,” Papi said, blocking one of Dega’s hits straight on.

Dega didn’t reply, and hit him again, this time going for his left flank. Papi barely avoided it.

He waited for someone to tell them to stop, and Celier only did once they had raised the stakes to ten out of ten. “That’s enough.”

Dega stopped, and with his back to Papi, he started putting on his shoes, and slipped his jacket back on. He didn’t seem to understand what had just happened.

But Papi didn’t expect him to. Rookies often didn’t understand just how big a deal it was to find someone you were drift compatible with. “Call the trials off,” he said, and that stopped Dega from tying up his shoelaces. He looked at Papi, frowning. “I think we found my co-pilot.”

Celier smiled, but Dega shook his head. “I cannot pilot,” he said, “I’m just an engineer.”

That took Papi by surprise. He’d thought—Dega had been passionate about rebuilding Eden, or so it had seemed. And he seemed to have ghosts of his own, something that had made him join the war efforts. Papi had thought he would appreciate the chance to become a Pilot.

“Everyone, out!” Celier ordered. Dega and Papi stayed behind, awkwardly looking at each other.

“It’s not a _I_ _can’t because I think Kaiju look freaky_ situation,” Papi argued. “We don’t have _time._ We fight well. That will translate into the drift.”

Dega didn’t budge, “Everyone thinks Kaiju look ‘freaky’,” he airquoted, mocking Papi’s tone. “I’m _not_ a pilot. Try and find someone else. All the candidates are _ideal–”_

“ _Ideal_ can’t cut it anymore,” Papi replied, feeling anger rising in his chest. True, this time. He thought it was selfish of Dega to not try and fight. He’d been the one that’d argued the war was not lost, and now, here he stood, not wanting to see or hear reason, not even willing to _try_. “Never met anyone who met me blow for blow. It has to be you.” Not even Nenette, back in their Academy days, had been able to meet him blow for blow like Dega had. They’d been good friends, compatible, in every sense. And yet they hadn’t had that kind of connection in the heat of a compatibility trial. Their compatibility had been good, and she was a good Ranger, but Papi knew that her years of friendship with Julot translated into a more stable bond in the drift. Now that they were over, their compatibility could be in the low levels. They couldn’t risk it.

But Dega didn’t understand, “Doesn’t have to be _me_ ,” he said, maddeningly stubborn. “Anyone who can get a good neural handshake, and voilà!”

“ _Marshal_ ,” Papi said. “Could you please—”

For the first time, Celier spoke up. “Dega has his reasons. And I will respect them. You can go.” he told Dega, who didn’t even spare a glance at Papi before he left the room.

“He has to be my co-pilot, and you know it,” Papi said, pointing a finger at Celier, who just raised an eyebrow before Papi put it down.

“Dega has never wanted to be a pilot. And I can’t blame him.” Celier said. There was history there, but it was not Celier’s to share. “He joined because he knew he could do good with his mind.”

“Technically, he can,” Papi said, referring to the neural handshake. “Look, he can fight. We’re compatible. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s _my_ co-pilot.”

“Not up to me,” Celier said. “If you can talk him into it, be my guest. Stubborn like a mule, that one, like a certain _someone_ I know.”

Papi stood there, hating that he felt defeated because of the way Dega had rejected him, like the worst thing that could ever happen to him would be to have Papi as a co-pilot. He hated that someone he didn’t even know could make him feel like that, and all because he had been sure that Dega would jump at the opportunity to fight at Papi’s side.

He had it in him, too, Papi could see it. That was the worst thing. Dega had potential, and together, damn it, Papi could begin to believe that they could win the war.

“You want him?” Celier asked, as he left the room. “Go get him. You don’t have long.”

So Papi did.

-

He knocked on Dega’s door, after asking around for his room, even pressed his ear against the door, but the doors were made of iron, and thick, so it was futile. “I know you’re in there.” He said, knocking. “Open up. I can do this all day, you know.”

It took a few more minutes of loud knocking before Dega opened the door, clearly annoyed. “For the love of God. Please stop.”

Papi laughed despite the obvious tension. “We need to talk.”

“We said more than enough.” Dega replied. “It’s not you, it’s me. And all that. There are other candidates. You _will_ be fine.”

He would’ve laughed again, but he knew they really didn’t have time to joke around. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” Papi said, leaning on the doorframe. “We can’t risk it. We don’t have time.”

“Maybe if you were _rational_ about this,” Dega said accusingly, but there was no heat behind his words. “I’m not a pilot.”

“I wasn’t one, either. None of us were born into this. But when the time came, we stepped up.”

Dega sighed, rubbed a hand on his head, very clearly growing frustrated. “You don’t even _think_ we can win this.”

Papi decided not to lie. Dega would be able to tell if he did, anyways, so he said, “I’m not sure we can,” and shrugged. “But we might have a chance if we have drift compatible pilots inside of Eden.”

Dega sighed, and then he made way, gesturing for Papi to go inside his room. They were already attracting stares, with some of the other people in the dorms staring out of their doors at them.

“Sit down if you please,” Dega said, pointing at a small table in the middle of his room. It was a bit bigger than the one Papi’d had in the Marseille Shatterdome, but he supposed the resistance was small enough they could afford to give some of their members enough room. Papi sat down, but Dega remained standing up.

“You _do_ know that it’ll work as long as two pilots are compatible.” Dega said. “All the candidates I picked are good, even if none of them have ever been to battle. Much like me.”

Papi knew it, of course. “The neural handshake is more stable when the pilots _are_ perfectly compatible.”

“It is also stable when the pilots _trust_ each other.” Argued Dega, and he took his glasses off. “Would you like anything to drink? I have nothing fancy, but. Well.”

Papi waved the offer away. “It’s true that we barely know each other, but, at the end of the day, we’re both here for similar reasons. When I decided to come back, I was implicitly trusting anyone who was part of the resistance.” It was more than he’d ever wanted to admit to anyone, not even Nenette. Papi had also once been bright-eyed, thinking that the PPDC would be the answer to stopping the upcoming apocalypse. After the Marseille Shatterdome had shut down, he’d left all those foolish dreams of saving the world behind.

Now, he was not so sure, and it had to do with the man standing in front of him. While he was not overtly familiar with Dega’s character, and it was obvious that their personalities clashed, Dega had rebuilt Eden, and he did believe they could fight back. Papi at least _wanted_ to believe they could, too. In time, maybe he would, but they didn’t have time now.

Dega looked at him, now, possibly trying to tell if Papi was lying. He was not. You needed to be a madman to think that the resistance could be the last line of defense against Kaiju, but you also needed to trust the people standing beside you, even if you thought there was no way they would win. Papi himself was still trying to understand why he had accepted at all, but it wasn’t like he didn’t trust the people at the Shatterdome. Like he wouldn’t be able to trust Dega himself when it came down to it.

“You brought Eden back. I think… I think it would be more foolish of me to not trust you.” Papi continued. Dega now knew Eden as well as Papi once had, and they were compatible. There was no better co-pilot candidate. It was their fighting chance, with four of the best Jaegers that had survived. “That is not a debt easily repaid, but I can try. Not asking for much. Just a trial. If it doesn’t work, I’ll look for someone else.”

The expression on Dega’s face was softer now. “We will both be sorely disappointed.”

Papi smiled. Maybe they both would be, but maybe he could get back into Eden, and then make some real magic happen. God, he hated feeling so giddy over it, like the first time he’d gotten into a Jaeger and never looked back.

Maybe that was what he needed, after all. To be back in the shoes of the young man he’d once been, a cadet in the PPDC’s Academy, dying to do good. Maybe he could be that man once again.

-

Celier looked positively giddy when they walked in for the neural handshake test.

“Wipe that smile off your face.” Louis said.

“What smile?” Celier replied, then motioned for Louis to get closer. “A word?”

So Louis did. He looked expectantly at Celier, waiting for whatever lecture he had planned. Instead, Celier looked worried. “I know that this is hard for you.”

Not many people knew why Louis had joined the PPDC. It had not been for revenge, but to try and do good. Until his brother had died. Charles had been all the family he’d had left, and he’d become a pilot to fight the Kaiju in his own way. Then, Knifehead had happened.

No survivors. They’d also lost _Nomad Hydra_ , and Louis had lost his brother. He’d had to watch as Charles clung onto dear life before surrendering to his injuries, affected by the Kaiju Blue. It had become personal then

Before Charles’ death, he’d entertained becoming a pilot. Charles said he would be good at it. That maybe one day they could pilot a Jaeger together. After his brother’s death, he’d known that there was no way he could ever maintain a neural handshake without “chasing the rabbit.”

Celier knew. “But I think he would want you to at least try.”

And Louis knew he meant _Charles_ would want him to try to make it work. Charrière was right. Even though they were good, none of the other candidates had been able to stand against Charrière. Louis was their best bet, if they wanted to get Eden Monarch out on the battlefield. Otherwise she would go to other pilots–difficult, for there weren’t many drift compatible pilots and old Jaeger pilots were either dead or missing–or be definitely retired, her parts going to repairs for other Jaegers.

Louis nodded. “I will do my best.”

When Louis walked back and started putting on the helmet, Charrière nodded towards him. “You okay, man?”

Louis nodded. “Let’s do this.”

After it’d been confirmed they were both in position, he heard the voice of one of the technicians. “Trial for Eden Monarch starting in five, four…”

Louis closed his eyes. As a concept, not chasing the rabbit was easy enough to imagine. You just didn’t have to cling to one memory. He could do that. He started thinking of what his life had been until that point. What had gotten him to where he was, never fixating on just one event, but reminding himself he’d had an entire life behind and ahead of him. He wouldn’t let just one memory drag him down.

“Two, one.” The technician said. And so it began.

He saw Charrière’s memories, and he knew Charrière could see his, but he felt no shame. Shame was often what unmade a successful Drift, and so far, he’d done nothing to be ashamed of. He saw Charrière growing up, joining the Academy, and then losing all hope once the Jaeger program had been shut down. He knew he could handle it. And on his side, Charrière made sure to project confidence, and trust, strange as it was. After this, they would still be virtually strangers, but know things about the other that no one else did.

Then, they got to the memory of the day Charles died. What no one ever emphasized about the Drift was that things felt _too_ real; what Charrière felt, so did Dega, and so on. But his own memories felt so real, he forgot where he was. It was as if he’d been standing there again, in his shared room with Charles, when the intercom had announced that Knifehead had breached the perimeter. Charles had told him to wait for him, smiling, sure that Nomad could go against Knifehead.

Next thing Louis knew, he saw his brother right before his eyes again, and couldn’t look away. He was younger again, unresponsive as the Marshal told him that neither Charles nor his co-pilot had made it. Saw his charred body as the medics tried to do what they could to ease his passing, because he would not survive. Saw himself holding Charles’ lifeless body before he’d been forcefully dragged away.

He was mildly aware of a voice calling for him. “This is not real, Dega!” he heard. And he knew, but he couldn’t look away. “This is a memory, just a memory–”

Then, he felt himself lifting his hand, Knifehead in mind.

What happened next, he didn’t know. All he knew was that, at some point, they’d stopped, and he would have hit the floor, had it not been for someone holding him before it happened.

“Charles…” he heard himself said, but instead of Charles’ eyes, he saw Charrière’s.

“He’s okay,” Charrière said over his shoulder. “Just… coming back.”

Once he was aware of his surroundings, he got up to his feet, and slapped Charrière’s hands away.

*

It didn’t matter how many times he saw her, Eden was still a sight to behold. He’d thought her lost, but she stood there again, a giant among men. The monster they’d had to build to fight other monsters, but magnificent all the same.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” he asked. Dega was sitting on the edge of a platform, simply staring at Eden. He didn’t even flinch when Papi sat to his side, not close enough that their knees would touch, but close enough Dega was aware Papi was there.

“I know–” Papi started. He couldn’t find the right words. “I know that it was hard for you. But it was hard for me, too. You saw…”

Papi at his lowest point, after the Jaeger program had been over. Stealing because he could, messing with people he shouldn’t have messed with. Driving Nenette away, refusing to admit he had a problem, and refusing to admit he’d taken pride in being a pilot. Cursing the world for making him fight a war that was not his, for making him watch as good people died in the efforts to stop the Kaiju, and then, for giving up.

“I saw.” Dega confirmed, and he looked at Papi, but there was no judgement in his eyes. He had ghosts of his own, like Papi had suspected and had seen. He didn’t blame Dega for chasing the rabbit. It was clear that the loss of his brother still hurt deeply, and maybe that particular wound would never heal, but he knew Dega also felt guilty that he’d known he couldn’t handle the Drift, but had still subjected Papi to his memories.

“You’re not a coward, Dega.” Papi said. “We all joined for a reason. We all kept fighting for a reason.” he sighed. “You’re stubborn, and kind of an ass, but you’re not a coward.”

They both laughed softly. “Pot, meet kettle.” Dega said.

“I know you can do it,” Papi continued. “But I need you to trust me.”

Now, he met Dega’s eyes. Dega looked away first. “I don’t even know you.” He said, half-heartedly. There were no secrets between them now. People wondered why Jaeger pilots grew so close so fast, and it was because, in the Drift, you were one, and there was no hiding from one of the two halves of a whole.

“Think we took care of that problem just now, bud.” Papi said. “I’m not going to force you to try again. But I want you to know I _know_ you can do it. We were doing well, and then–” Papi shrugged. “It happens. It will be easier.”

Dega looked at him again, and when Papi smiled, he returned the smile, easily.

“You’re an asshole.” Dega said, but he was still smiling. “But you’re also… not so bad yourself, I suppose.”

Papi knew Dega did think that he was an asshole, but he’d also seen how Dega had admired him when they were younger, so he thought they were even.

They sat in comfortable silence, staring at Eden’s heart.

-

Despite the talk with Charrière, Louis still knew he was nowhere near becoming the perfect pilot. Celier had said their bond had been strong, stable, until Louis had become fixated on the memory of the day Charles died.

But they were running out of time.

“If you’re willing to try again…” Celier said. “No one will force you. Charrière can find another pilot, but so far, you’re the best match.”

Louis wasn’t sure. Now that he knew what to expect, he could be better prepared, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing Charles die again and again in the Drift. He told Celier as much.

“Think about it.” Celier said. No offer to sleep on it because they were sure that they would have to go out on the battlefield before the end of the day.

And despite how their dislike for each other was now known, Charrière wouldn’t leave his side now.

“Stop calling me Charrière,” he said, handing Louis the tools he needed while he kept working on Eden. “Everyone else calls me Papillon.”

Louis had seen the tattoo in Charrière’s memory. He’d gotten it during his pilot days, right after he’d been assigned to Eden Monarch. His reasoning had been that he’d wanted a tattoo that represented the part of him that would always be a Jaeger pilot. Still, he asked, “For the tattoo?”

Papillon–and Dega would have to get used to that, that is, if they lived to count the tale–nodded. “Stupid nickname, I know.”

“Could’ve been worse.” Though Papillon was right. If he’d gotten the tattoo during his Academy days, the teasing would have been merciless.

“So,” Papillon started. “You’ve thought about it?” Barely a few hours had passed since their failed trial, but Papillon was stubborn, much like Dega.

Louis didn’t stop working, much as he felt like throwing the wrench at Papillon’s head. But he had the answer. “I’m not sure how we will make it out of this alive. And I have my doubts.” And he was a bit afraid, he had to admit. He’d never seen a Kaiju up close, but he’d seen the damage they could do. “But… I will try.”

Papillon looked like Christmas and his birthday had just happened. “Good.”

“Good.” Louis repeated. “I also know that you told Celier you wouldn’t do it unless it was me. No point in trying to convince you otherwise.”

Papillon didn’t look ashamed, nor did he try to deny it. “I was telling the truth. Don’t think I can drift with many people now.”

“We could have asked Nenette.” Louis suggested, though they both knew she would be piloting Striker now. Then, he remembered. Too much history between Papillon and Nenette for their bond to be as strong and stable as it needed to be for battle. He made to apologize, but Papillon waved a hand in front of him before he could continue, dismissing him.

“S’alright, man.” Papillon said. “I know what you saw in the Drift. She’s great but I think we got a better chance at winning if she just goes back to Striker.”

As far as Louis could tell, he meant that, too. From what he’d seen, Papillon had been over Nenette for a while now, and they’d made their peace with what had gone down between them, right before Papillon’s stint in prison.

He shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Papillon only smiled.

-

Papillon still thought their plan, while pretty good, was mad. Bombing the Breach sounded like a good idea in theory, but in execution…

“Striker and Crimson take care of the Kaiju.” Dega explained again. “Cherno is there to run defense for us. We drop the bombs, then walk away.”

Papi strapped on his helmet at the same time Dega did. “You say the sweetest things,” he teased, but Dega didn’t laugh. “I still think it’s crazy.”

“But you want to believe it’ll happen.”

They looked at each other. “See you on the other side.” Papi said, and then, the Drift began.

He’d told Dega that the key to not chasing the rabbit was to just let yourself _feel_ , knowing that you had experienced the things you were seeing, but conscious that they were just that: memories. No one could expect Dega to just get over his brother’s death like that, but it was easier, this time, with Papillon meeting Dega in the middle when their minds reached out, and reassuring him that they could do this.

But they still both felt doubt when they saw Leatherback and Otachi tearing through the other Jaegers like they were nothing more than glorified, giant human toys.

Even though there was no need to communicate verbally, he still heard as Dega spoke, “No panicking just yet. It may be a category IV but–”

They were interrupted by Leatherback throwing them from the harbor to the docks.

“You were saying?” Papi said, but there was no sarcasm behind his voice. He could hear Dega think. Leatherback seemed to be more physical, less logical, somehow, than Otachi. A head-on confrontation against the beast was their best bet.

And so, they did just that, meeting Leatherback blow for blow, until they were able to cut its arm.

“Check the pulse,” Papi said. “Can never be too sure it’s dead for real.”

Instead of doing that, they lifted Eden’s hand, and used Eden’s Plasmacaster to end Leatherback.

 _Can be hope is not a mistake,_  one of them thought, but Papi was not sure who it was.

-

Though the battle had not been easy, it had gone as smoothly as it could. Louis had not chased the rabbit, and Papi had remained focused. So, of course, Louis reasoned, there had to be a drawback somewhere. The Breach could not be entered by anyone but Kaiju, and Striker had failed in its attempt to deploy the bomb inside it. The pilots were fine, as far as Louis knew. Badly hurt, but fine.

So now, the mission fell to Eden.

He knew Papillon had similar thoughts about it being a suicide mission. They would probably not make it out.

“It’s stupid.” Papillon said. He didn’t mean it, as much as he wanted to.

“But it’s our last chance.” Louis said. They reached for each other, and went under the sea.

When he came to himself, he was floating, and Papillon was nowhere to be seen. “Fucking bastard…” Louis muttered. The waves around him were wild, and he got on a lifeboat before he could get any more of the Kaiju Blue on his body, but Papillon was still missing.

The Breach had been closed. They’d won. But no one ever spoke of what they’d lost to win.

He closed his eyes, and then heard it. The sound of a lifepod hitting the surface. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but then, he saw Papillon.

The stupid bastard was smiling.

“Not a war we could win, huh?” Louis asked, as he helped Papillon onto their lifeboat. Papillon curled a hand around the nape of Louis’ neck, and laughed breathily, still taking his breath.

“Shut the hell up.” Papillon said, bringing their foreheads together, and closing his eyes. Louis closed his eyes too. “You’re annoying.”

“Asshole.” Louis said. They breathed together.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


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